


Retrograde

by Thelittlescrimshaw



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Ben Solo makes an appearance, F/M, Force Bond, Idiots in Love, JJ has made a decision, Mutual Pining, POV Kylo Ren, POV Rey, Porn with Feelings, Post-TLJ, Smut, and Ben Solo is here to stay, but given that it is a stupid decision I have elected to ignore it, fuck canon we're going our own way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelittlescrimshaw/pseuds/Thelittlescrimshaw
Summary: In the wake of Snoke's death, Kylo Ren and Rey grapple with coexistence.“Snoke is dead, and you - you’re angry that you have nothing to show for it!”“You left,” he snarled, so sudden and vicious that shook Rey to her bones. “I killed my master for you and you left.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 59
Kudos: 508





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some fun pre-TROS fun. Smut in next chapter ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Snoke is dead, and you -   
>  _  
>  you’re angry that you have nothing to show for it!”   
>  _
> 
> “You  _ left, _ ” he snarled, so sudden and vicious that shook Rey to her bones. “I killed my master for you and you  _ left.” _

Kylo Ren weeps first time he sees her after that fateful date on Crait.

At first he thinks it’s a trick of the light - but no, there she is clear as day, walking through his war room. He’s the only one left at the table, hands steepled in front of him.When he recovers from the initial shock, he stands so quickly the chair he’s sitting on topples over. 

She turns and spots him, and she is beautiful. Tears prick his eyes, and Kylo Ren has never been so grateful for his mask. Her eyes widen, her mouth opens - 

-and before she can speak, the vision fades. 

His heart beats like a drum, in time with the mantra running through his mind:  _ Snoke lied. Snoke lied. Snoke lied.  _

And Kylo Ren, the newly-ascended Supreme Leader of the First Order, hangs his head and weeps.

* * *

“How are you doing this?” 

Her words cut through the silence, her tone just short of hostile. Kylo Ren swallows. He can barely contain the raging storm inside of him - anger and hurt and jealousy and despite it all,  _ hope. _

She knows him. 

She saw everything inside of him that scared others - his own parents. Luke. Even, at times, himself. Only Snoke hadn’t feared the darkness in him. 

Until her. But she  _ left _ . 

And Kylo Ren was caught between the boy he used to be and the man he no longer was; he’d been hanging on desperately to their connection, to the only thing that made  _ sense _ over the past decade of his life…

...and when Snoke had told him it was a farce, it had nearly broken Kylo. 

_ Except it was real. _

_ An expert liar, _ his father had told him once,  _ builds his lie around a grain of truth.  _ And Snoke had done exactly that.

“I’m not.” The words sound strangled, even to his ears. He watches rapturously as her eyes widen, as it dawns on her. “Snoke lied,” he tells her. “Snoke  _ lied.”  _

“So it’s the Force,” she says softly, half to herself. “The Force is doing this. Why?” 

_ We’re the same, _ he wants to say.  _ You saw your own reflection in the darkness in me. And I see myself in you.  _ But he isn’t inclined to anything as romantic. Even he knows that this is delicate ground. 

“I don’t know.” 

She gives a slight nod and glances around. “I can see the chair you’re sitting in. Can you see…?” 

He suspects what she’s doing - fishing for information, wondering if she’ll give away her location and thus the location of the rebels. Irritation rises in his mouth like bile. Of  _ course _ she’s worried about her friends at the exclusion of all else. 

Still, he’s never been anything but honest with her and he doesn’t intend to lie now. “I can see the cot you’re on and the blanket in your lap. Only what you touch. Nothing more.” He scoffs. “Your precious traitors are safe.” 

Rey pulls back her lips into a snarl, but something on her end of the bond distracts her. She glances behind her shoulder and stands -

-and the vision fades. 

* * *

He’s meticulously keeping track of the days between their connections. 

Sometimes he thinks he can feel her through the bond, phantom thoughts and emotions that are familiar but distinct from his own. Sometimes he thinks he’s gone mad. How many tales were there of kings and emperors whose sanity was corrupted by power? It would only make sense to count himself among them. 

When he sees her next, she’s sitting on her bed, a massive text in her lap. She frowns in concentration, her hair swept back. She has a datapad next to her, alternating between reading and transcribing information. It might be his imagination, but he thinks he sees his grandfather’s saber next to her. 

He pushes down the swell of anger and betrayal. She still hasn’t noticed him.

He takes the opportunity to observe. 

Rey looks tired above all else. The grey sweater she wears and the touch of red on her cheeks indicate a cold climate. But her eyes are bright as always.

There’s something endearing about it all, how her legs are crossed in front of her, how her socks don’t match. But after a moment he begins to feel like a voyeur, so he speaks. 

“I hope you find my notes useful.” 

She jumps, eyes wide. He wonders how she hadn’t noticed the connection. Was it growing stronger? Was his presence becoming more and more natural to her, just as her was to him? 

“I -  _ you’re  _ notes?” 

“Those are the Jedi texts, correct? From Skywalker’s temple. I annotated them. Perhaps the most useful thing I did during my training.” 

She’s gaping at him. Kylo Ren is bragging, he knows he is, but it’s easier to crow about research he’s done than it is to confront the feelings swirling in his gut. The restlessness has settled in his bones before he can think better of it, he gets up and strides across the room, sits on the phantom image of her bed. He’s compelled by a desire to be closer to her, and he doesn’t think its his imagination that feels her warmth. 

“I have a hard time believing the Supreme Leader has time for this.” 

Her words are sharp, cutting, spat out as if they’d been sitting on her tongue this entire time. ‘You underestimate the value of my time,” he mutters, and peers over her shoulder. 

He doesn’t tell her that most of his duties have been paperwork and councils; he doesn’t tell her that most of his waking hours are spent thinking of  _ her; _ he doesn’t tell her that sitting next to her is by far the best use of his time. 

She’s reading a page about kyber crystals and lightsaber construction. It doesn’t take long for him to put two and two together. “So you took my saber, then. And here I thought it had been lost in the explosion.” 

Rey snaps the book shut.  _ “Your _ saber?” 

“It’s mine by birthright.” It  _ is. _ There’s one thing that Kylo has to hold onto and its Vader’s legacy.  _ His _ legacy. “You just happen to be in possession of it.” 

“It responded to me,” she says tightly. “Besides. It’s broken anyway. Nearly useless.” 

He regards her a moment; he thinks,  _ if anyone can fix it, it’s you. _ He doesn’t dare say it aloud. But he wonders…

Their bond is growing stronger. How far did it extend? Could she read his thoughts?

“I try not to,” she says, looking away. “I don’t want to.”

“But you can?”

Before she can answer, a team of ‘Troopers walk into the war room. Kylo Ren is distracted for just a moment, but the vision had already faded. 

* * *

Rey had spent the better part of her life keeping track of the days. One of the things the desert had taught her was how to wait: wait in lines, wait for safety, wait for the rain.

Wait for someone to come back. 

She started etching lines into the wall behind the cot on the  _ Falcon _ in the wake of Crait. Days since Luke died. Days since Kylo Ren killed snoke. Days since she saw Kylo Ren.

Now she kept a new tally; every day since Crait that she saw Kylo Ren over their Force bond, she etched a horizontal line across the day’s tally mark. 

_ Force bond. _ She’d read about it in the Jedi Texts. How they were rare. How the connections were deep and profound, and had been used to wage - and win - wars. Kylo Ren’s annotations were notably sparse there - he’d only written one name:  _ Bastila Shan. _

As she read, Rey only had more questions than answers. She had been thrust into this legacy with only these texts as a lifeline and a well of power so deep it scared her. Others in the Resistance treated her as if she were untouchable, unapproachable: a hero who had saved the day on Crait; Luke Skywalker’s protégé. And a Jedi, like Kylo Ren before her. 

Nobody was hostile to her, not outright, but her comrades kept their distance. 

Rey ran her finger over this day’s tally - four days since her last Foce Bond with Kylo - and sighed. 

_ You’re nothing, _ he’d said.  _ But not to me. _

But still, she wasn’t enough for him to come with her. To turn. 

The rejection stung like salt on an open wound. Rey grit her teeth, as if that would assuage the ache in her chest, as if that would make her forget those pleading, desperate,  _ hopeful _ eyes. She couldn’t help but think what might’ve happened if she’d actually joined him. Could she have done some good in the galaxy, by his side? Brought about change from a position of power, instead of resistance? 

The only thing worse than seeing him was  _ not _ seeing him. If only she could access their bond at will. If only…

The world around her shifted, like the calm before the storm: quiet and ominious and heavy, signaling that she was connected to Kylo Ren. 

The hair on her neck stood up. She’d done that - accessed the Force bond at will. And how easy it had been…

Rey hugged herself and glanced around, searching for him. 

To her surprise, he was  _ sleeping. _ On some level, Rey knew that Kylo Ren was a man and that he needed to eat and sleep just like she did...but such a mundane thing seemed beneath him, somehow. As if part of her believed in the monstrous mask he’d spent years cultivating. 

She couldn’t see his quarters, just his bed. The black blankets and pillows made his skin look even paler. He slept on his side, head pillowed on his bare arm. The blankets had come off in his sleep, revealed his naked chest. 

He looked more relaxed in his sleep, younger almost. Rey found her gaze drawn to his mouth. A traitorous part of her wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by those lips - Rey promptly shut down the thought, and turned her attention to the scar she’d given him.

It was now a faint line, far from the angry gash she’d left him with. It went across his brow and down his cheek, stopping just under his collarbone. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch it, to feel the proof of her mark on him - but no. The last time they’d touched during a Force bond, the vision she’d seen had been enough for her to go straight into the lion’s den. Stars knew what she’d do again, what she’d see now that the bond was getting stronger. 

“The last time I woke to someone standing over my bed I was almost murdered.”

His voice startled her out of her thoughts. Kylo looked at her, eyebrow arched. For a moment they were silent, and Rey was painfully aware of her shallow breathing, of her heart racing. 

Eventually, he broke the silence. “But you’re not here to do that, are you?” 

Rey shook her head, fists clenched at her sides. “I don’t know why I’m here.” 

Kylo sat up against the pillows, the blankets pooling around his waist. He didn’t say anything for a long while, simply sat there regarding her. Rey felt her face grow hot under his gaze, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t quite her enemy but was far from an ally. Not a monster, but a man with a monstrous past. Perhaps Ben Solo was always destined to become Kylo Ren. 

_ Perhaps, _ a traitorous voice whispered, _ Kylo Ren was always destined to be saved. _

She watched as he stood up and walked towards her with that same intensity he had back in the throne room. Barely three weeks ago, and yet it felt like a lifetime. 

Rey retreated as he advanced, and was once again reminded how  _ big _ he was; he loomed over her in a way nobody else did. Rey was reminded of their encounter on the turbolift: how his eyes had lingered on her mouth, how his gaze had burned right through to her soul. 

She wondered if he would kiss her. 

She wondered if she  _ wanted _ him to kiss her. 

Her back hit the wall and she looked up, half expecting Kylo to - to do  _ something, _ although Rey wasn’t sure what. But he kept a respectful distance between them; in fact, he wasn’t even looking at her, but  _ around  _ her. 

_ That. Bastard.  _

He’d backed her into the wall so he could get a look at her surroundings. “You’re in a freighter. An old one.” He frowned. “Are you alone?” 

“You know exactly what freighter I’m in,” Rey spat. She felt silly for thinking that he would - would want to  _ kiss _ her. They were on opposite sides of a war. Of course he would want whatever information he could get from her. 

But Kylo was still looking at the wall over her shoulder. Rey followed his gaze -  _ oh. _

The marks on her wall. 

He stepped forward and gently, reverently, brought up his hand to trace her etchings. “You did this every day,” he murmured, sparing a glance in her direction. Rey felt her face grow hot. “And you still do it.”

She looked away. “Habit.” 

“I can’t imagine what you’re waiting for…” he ran a finger over the horizontal tally marks, and cursed under his breath.

“You’re counting down the days it takes to get me to turn.” His voice rose. “You’re upset we’re on opposite sides of a war that  _ you _ chose to wage.”

Anger. Good. Rey could handle that - any distraction from her own foolish thoughts, any excuse to give into her own ire had been slowly rising and now threatened to boil over.  _ “I _ chose this? Your army -”

“Has halted its pursuits, or are you too absorbed in your self-pity to notice -”

He’d somehow gotten closer, until they were standing nearly toe-to-toe. The words ripped from her mouth, acidic and angry: “Self-pity? That’s rich!”

“You Jedi are all the same,” he hissed. “Sanctimonious and manipulative -”

“You’re pride just can’t stand the blow that a  _ nobody _ like me outsmarted you.” 

He looked as if she’d slapped him; Rey’s hand twitched at the thought, but she didn’t dare touch him. She wouldn’t risk another Force vision. Fueled by her anger, she spat: “Snoke is dead, and you -  _ you’re angry that you have nothing to show for it!”  _

“You  _ left, _ ” he snarled, so sudden and vicious that shook Rey to her bones. “I killed my master for you and you  _ left.” _

Rey opened her mouth to make a scathing retort, closed it. 

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

Rey’s heart stopped, shuddered in her chest. A vulnerable, young piece of him had just made itself known - that as as good as a confession. He worked his jaw, as if hoping he could bite back the words, swallow them down. But the confession hung in the air between them, and Rey was struck -not for the first time- with the realization that she and Kylo Ren were not so different. 

She wondered if he had been waiting on her return. She wondered if he felt the same bone-deep loneliness, staved off by a naive hope.

And how cruel must she appear to him? How heartless? 

For a moment there was only the sound of his breathing. He looked at her with those eyes - angry and sad and hungry, just as he had in the throne room after he had killed Snoke...for her. 

He swallowed, mouth parted as if to speak...then his gaze flickered to something over her shoulder. He frowned.

“Kylo -”

“We’re not done here,” he hissed, close enough that she could feel his breath. Close enough to kiss him. 

She acted on instinct, grabbing his wrist before she could think better of it. And then, another vision - 

_ Years of torment at the hands of Snoke, years of vying for his master to take pride in him, years of hoping and trying and enduring but then he found her, saw what could have been, Snoke was dead the minute he laid his hands on you - _

Kylo Ren recoiled, jerked out of her grip, and retreated into nothingness. The connection ended as abruptly as it had begun, and Rey felt like a vacuum had erupted in her chest. 

Tears pricked her eyes. Rey sat down heavily on the bed. His words echoed in her mind. _For you._ _For you._

It had never occurred to her that she had been the impetus behind Kylo Ren slaying Snoke. To her it had just been the  _ right _ thing to do...the only possible option, but...

Perhaps for Kylo, it had come down to a simple choice: her life or Snoke’s. And he had come down firmly on the side of  _ her. _

Rey ran her fingers over the tally marks on her wall. It seemed that they were both experts in waiting. And Kylo Ren had sacrificed the one thing he’d been waiting for - approval, even  _ love, _ from his master - to save her life. 

_ Let the past die, _ he’d said.  _ Kill it if you have to. _

Perhaps he hadn’t only been speaking to her. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing, not even Kylo Ren’s anger, could have prepared her for the intensity of Ben Solo’s…
> 
> Love, a thought, deep in her mind supplied. His love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my love letter to the fandom. Ya'll need it now more than ever. 
> 
> "I'm a monster but you treat me like a man" lifted from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the fandom and written out of pure, unadulterated SPITE.

Her presence was a thorn in his side, a knife in his heart, but her absence is even worse; a twist of the blade, a constant reminder that he is incomplete, that a very part of his soul is starving for her presence. 

Shame and longing battled for dominance; he hadn’t meant to scare her - she hadn’t had true fear towards him until now. 

He was a monster, but she made him feel like a man. 

And perhaps that was too much. 

So he paced around his quarters like a caged animal, warring with himself: he could seek her out and make her  _ see _ all that he’s done, show her that she made a mistake by leaving...or he could wait, and let her come to him. 

He’d offered her the galaxy and she refused. What more could he possibly give her? What else could she want from him? It was nothing short of insulting that she was holding out for him to turn - he’d finally made a place for himself, was finally able to see a light at the end of the tunnel, and she had the audacity to want him to - to what? Allow himself to be captured as a war criminal?

Foolish girl.

He waited for her until he could bear it no longer, until her absence felt like a burning hole in his side. He shut his eyes and found her easily; she shone like a beacon in the darkness, and he was drawn to her like a moth to flame.

* * *

Three days since their last encounter, and the only thing worse than seeing him was  _ not _ seeing him. Guilt churned in Rey’s stomach; she hadn’t meant to read his most personal thoughts, hadn’t meant to see the depth of his...of his…

_ Heartache, _ her mind supplied.  _ His heartache. _

Heartache that mirrored her own. Loneliness that mirrored her own. 

Whenever she thought of the thoughts she read, gooseflesh broke out on her arms.  _ I saw what could have been. What we could be. You and I are one in the same. Snoke was dead the second he laid a finger on you. _ It was an undeniable truth, one that nearly overwhelmed her with its power. 

He killed his master for her.

He refused to come back with her. 

He called her nothing. 

_ But not to me. _

Rey didn’t have it in her to think too long about what she might’ve been to Kylo Ren; what she so desperately wanted to be for Ben Solo. 

She sat down heavily on her cot and shucked off her boots. Ben...Kylo...he’d chosen her, in his own way. Whatever that meant. 

Her heart stopped when the world went still, signaling Kylo Ren’s appearance. His back was to her; Rey half-expected him to slam the bond shut on the spot, after the way he’d left things. 

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said, turning to face her. His First Order uniform was freshly pressed, his hair brushed back. It made him look younger.  _ You know I can’t.  _

“Can’t?” Rey asked without thinking. He looked away. 

_ Oh.  _ She’d heard that then, through their bond - sensed his thoughts clear as day. Could he read hers so clearly? 

“Yes.” His voice sounded strangled. “I try not to.” 

She swallowed. Very well then. “You said we weren’t finished here.” 

He was silent a moment. Rey found herself unable to meet his gaze. 

“I don’t think we’ll ever be finished.” Kylo said. He shifted; Rey focused on his boots. “We’re bound by the Force,” he continued, stepping forward. He was looking at the tally she kept on the wall, running his fingers over the marks. “You’re still doing this.” 

“I don’t see why you’re concerning yourself with my method of timekeeping.” She kept her tone curt. “You are the Supreme Leader, after all.” 

“I’ve resigned myself to  _ concerning _ myself with you a long time ago.”  _ And yet you still won’t look at me. _

Rey’s heart caught in her throat. How cruel must that seem? But surely he knew why- and he did, of course he did. One glance in his direction would prove it - 

Oh.

Kylo had moved so silently she hadn’t noticed, and now he was kneeling in front of her. “What do you want from me, Rey?”  _ What more can I possibly offer? _

She swallowed. “I don’t want anything.” 

Part of Rey expected him to respond in anger; she could feel his ire rise, but it extinguished almost as quickly as it had risen. “That’s a lie.”  _ I never lied to you. You could show me the same courtesy.  _

At this rate, he was going to break her heart. Why was he showing her such - such tenderness, such compassion? 

_ You know why. _

“I don’t know,” she told him, voice barely above a whisper.  _ I’m terrified.  _

His hands rose halfway up, stopped; a small part of Rey wished that he’d take her hands in his. Having him so far away felt like a physical knife had been slipped between her ribs. She wanted him closer. She wanted….

“Meet me,” she asked desperation rising in her throat, threatening to bubble over. “On - on Yavin IV.” 

Her words caught him by surprise. He was silent a moment, gaping at her in disbelief.

“Please. Meet me, Ben. I…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say, unwilling to say the wrong thing. Too many feelings were churning in her chest, so much that she thought she might burst from it.

“When?” 

“Tomorrow. I’ll send you my coordinates.”

A tiny nod. He reached out to cup her cheek, but the vision ended just as his hand brushed against her face, the touch featherlight, hesitant, but above all - 

-hopeful. 

* * *

Rey is already there when he arrives. 

She sent him her coordinates on Yavin IV and had landed his father’s ship in the middle of a clearing. He lands his command shuttle and waits,unable to stop his fingers tapping nervously on the console.

_ She’s here. She’s here. _ Part of him couldn’t believe it.

He lowers the hatch and waits. 

One minute. Two. He begins to lose hope - perhaps she has second thoughts, perhaps she intends to make him board his father’s ship. He doesn’t know if he has it in him, but for her…

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. She’s walking towards him, head held high, a purpose in her step, his grandfather’s saber at her side. 

His hands are nearly shaking by the time she boards. 

“You came,” she murmurs in disbelief, and something that he thought was long dead flutters awake in his breast.

She’s  _ here, _ in front of him, real and tangible and not just through the Force. 

“You asked.”  _ And you have no idea, _ he thought,  _ what I would do for you if you only asked.  _

* * *

Rey’s mouth went dry; his thoughts felt deliberate this time, close to the surface. He  _ wanted _ her to know that  _ I would move the stars themselves for you if you asked.  _

He’d gotten rid of his cape, didn’t wear his mask; he wore a v-neck shirt made of a soft fabric, left untucked from his trousers. His boots looked well-worn, not as shiny as some of the other First Order officers that Rey had seen. 

He took a hesitant step forward. “You asked,” he repeated. “Rey. I need you to look at me.” 

And once again, Rey was struck with how unthinkingly cruel she could be. He’d come this far to meet her - dropped all pretenses, dropped all duties as the Supreme Leader - to meet her. A nobody from Jakku. And she...she wasn’t even doing him the most basic curtsey. 

When she looked up at him, his eyes were glassy, his jaw tight, as if he could begin weeping at any moment. She took a step forward and, summoning all of her courage, placed her hand on his cheek. Slowly, he leaned into the touch. His skin was warm beneath her hand, the hair that brushed against her fingers silky and soft. 

His thoughts flowed into her at the touch -  _ disbelief joy and recognition, a deep-seated sense of  _ sameness, _ a desperation to keep her near, finally feeling  _ home…

And fear. A bone-deep fear that he would not be worthy, that she would see him for the monster that he truly was and then leave…

How many times, she wondered, had Ben Solo truly been  _ seen? _

He covered her hand with his and swallowed thickly. “Rey…”

“I’m not sure what else you want from me,” he continued. His grip on her hand tightened. “What I can give.” 

_ Ben Solo, _ she wanted to say. He was searching her face for answers; and Rey…

If Rey thought too much about it, she was certain that she would burst into tears. She wanted to take him into her arms and beg him to stay; she needed him to understand…

His mouth was warm and yielding when she kissed him, and gentle - so, surprisingly gentle. He stayed stock still as she pulled away, eyes trained on her with a feral intensity. 

“It wasn’t easy for me to leave,” she whispered. “I wanted to stay.” 

He nodded. “I know.” 

A lone tear rolled down his cheek. Rey brushed it away with her thumb...and it might’ve been her imagination, but she thought she could feel Ben’s heart skip a beat at the touch. 

She took a trembling breath. “I wanted to stay...with Ben Solo.” 

The words hung heavy in the air between them; for a moment, Rey thought that she had pressed too far, asked for too much. She kept her eyes on his, willing him to understand. 

“I’m here now,” he rasped. “I’m here. And I am  _ yours.” _

It was as much a confession as any. Rey’s breath caught in her throat, and she finally gave voice to what had been on her mind: 

_ You come from nothing. You’re nothing. But not to me. _

“And what am I to you?” she asked voice barely above a whisper. Some small, young part of her needed to hear him say it. 

He looked at her with such pure  _ adoration _ on his face and her heart nearly stopped.  _ “Everything.” _

He met her halfway this time, crushed her to his chest and kissed her as if he were a dying man and she were his salvation; nothing, not even Kylo Ren’s anger, could have prepared her for the intensity of Ben Solo’s…

_ Love, _ a thought, deep in her mind supplied. _ His love.  _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ringing in the new year with some good ol' Reylo smut, in this chapter and the next. Enjoy ;D

Ben Solo breaks the kiss as gently as he can and thinks that he could die happy in that moment. 

Rey’s hands move from his face to his shoulders, warm and solid. This is no Force vision - this is  _ real. _ And he - he cannot help himself. He picks her up and spins her around; she laughs, and his heart nearly stops at the sound. 

He sets her down, a smile nearly splitting his face in two, his hands held loosely on her waist. She’s smiling at him, and in that moment he would move the stars themselves to keep that smile on her face. He’d slay Snoke a thousand times over if it meant that she would stay, if it meant that this feral, strong,  _ breathtaking _ woman would keep looking at him like that. 

Even so, he can’t return with her; he might become the Ben Solo she wants him to be yet, but he is still the Supreme Leader, after all. He knows that they are on stolen time, that for now moments like these will have to sustain him until they can be together. 

He lets out a shaky breath. “I want to show you something.” 

He shows her to the captain’s quarters, leads her past the desk that dominates the atrium and into his chambers. On his personal desk rests a rectangular wooden box; he hands it to Rey, and watches nervously as she opens it and unwraps the velvet cloth. 

Realization dawns on her face and she removes the lightsaber from the box and examines the hilt. She looks up at him with those big hazel eyes. “This is...” 

“I want you to have it.” 

“I can’t accept this. This is  _ yours _ -”

“I -”  _ am not ready or worthy or even sure I want to - _ “I want you to have it. For safekeeping.” He takes a breath. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you.” He suddenly feels uncomfortable, antsy; he’s too close to the saber, to the last artifact of his days as a Jedi. He runs his hand through his hair, bites the inside of his cheek, and resists the urge to sprint across the room.

She regards him a moment from across the room, then turns her attention to the lightsaber in her hands. “I can feel it. Like...like I recognize it. Like I recognized you.” She glances up at him. “It terrified me at first.” 

She sets the saber down into its box and steps closer to him. 

“It doesn’t anymore. But Ben…your saber…” 

“I want you to have it, Rey.” She steps into his arms. Ben puts his hands on her waist, planted a kiss to her forehead. 

“You are  _ everything _ to me,” he repeats, desperate to make her understand. “When I looked into your mind on Starkiller, I saw something familiar. It was terrifying...and hopeful. And then,” he offers her a sardonic smile, “you tried to kill me.” 

Rey is caught somewhere between a protest and a laugh. He continues, “But you couldn’t kill me any more than I could kill you. The Force had connected us, for better or for worse. And I saw all the turmoil and conflict and  _ anger _ inside of you...and underneath it all, hope. And you...you saw  _ me _ . Not my ancestry. You had faith in me, faith that I didn’t deserve. And when you told me I wasn’t alone...for the first time in my life I believed it.” 

That night is forever embedded into his memory; the faintest touch of their hands felt like a livewire, like a surge of life itself. When he told Rey that she wasn’t alone, never in a million years did he think she would return the affirmation. 

But looking at her now, he knows she felt the same.  _ Me, too. _

“And when Snoke said that  _ he _ was the one who did it…that it was another lie, another manipulation. To think our bond just another play in his game...” 

When Snoke revealed that he was the one behind their bond, Kylo’s stomach had dropped. He felt physically sick in that moment, destabilized,  _ wrong. _ Cheated. The one thing that he had cherished, the one thing that was  _ his... _ all another piece of his Master’s puzzle.

“Snoke lied,” Rey murmurs, half to herself. She smooths his hair from his face, drawing Ben out from his memory and into the present. “Snoke lied, Ben.” 

And when she kisses him, Ben wonders if it’s possible to love her more. 

* * *

She kissed him gently, tenderly; she ran her fingers through his hair and pressed herself against him. Ben hugged her tight to his chest, returned her kisses in earnest.

She let herself get swept up in the kiss, the feel of him: those strong arms encircling her, that mouth, soft and pliant beneath her own, the sharp bite of his teeth against her lip that made heat pool low in her belly.

He repeated the motion and when she gasped – a small sound, the slightest parting of her lips – his tongue slipped against her lips, into her mouth. She fisted her hands into his hair, and on instinct gave an experimental tug. In response, he groaned low in his throat and hefted her into his arms, a firm grip on her thighs.

Rey braced her forearms on his shoulders. “Show off,” she muttered, but she was smiling.

Ben gave her a wicked smirk and pressed kisses, feather light at first then more and more insistent, against her neck, her collarbones. He took two steps back, stopped when his calves hit the bed. He sat, held Rey in his lap, and was looking up at her with such - such  _ adoration _ in his eyes that Rey had to look away. 

She traced her finger over the scar that marred his face - the scar she’d given him on Starkiller. 

“Even if I wanted, I could never forget you,” he said with a sardonic smile. “You’ll always be with me.” 

She pressed a kiss to his brow, right where the scar began. “Always,” she whispered, kissing the line of his scar. When she reached the soft flesh of his neck, some primal part of her couldn’t resist lingering, laving at his pulse point, not quite biting, but dragging her teeth over the soft flesh, again and again…

Ben made a low noise in the back of his throat; the sound reverberated through her, went straight to her aching core. He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her up to kiss her, attaching her lips with a vengeance. No gentle kisses from him - no, this was ferocious, parting her lips with his tongue and slicking into her mouth, dragging her bottom lip between his teeth, reaching between them to palm her breast, and - 

_ Oh, _ it felt good - made her suddenly conscious of the throbbing wet  _ heat _ between her legs, made her want…

Made her want…

He repeated the motion, then with deft fingers found her pebbled nipple through her shirt, rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “What do you want, Rey?” he murmured, and she could only lean forward and kiss him, make a small, mewling sound into his mouth as an answer. 

He flipped their positions with ease - not surprising, given the size of him - and pulled away, fixing her with a dark, hungry gaze. Rey watched, transfixed, as he got down on his knees before her, coaxed her to sit on the edge of the bed. She didn’t register what he was doing until she felt him take the heel of her boot in his hand. Surprised, she watched as he deftly undid the tangled laces. 

She opened her mouth to protest, but one look from him had her swallowing her words. He unlaced her boots, tugged and her socks off her feet. His hands skimmed up her calves, warm even through the fabric of her leggings. She stayed stock-still as his hands went higher, resting on the outside of her thighs. 

“What do you want, Rey?” 

“Touch me,” she said, surprised by how breathless she sounded.  _ Please. _

“Here?” he asked, skimming a hand up underneath the hem of her shirt. His touch was hot on the soft skin, his fingers burning a trail as he dragged them across her ribs. 

“Here?” he asked again, trailing his fingers down the side of her thighs. Rey clenched her fists into the blanets of the bed as he got dangerously close to her core, to the apex of her thighs. 

“Here?” his voice was soft, his gaze hungry and dark, when he stroked her through her leggings. Rey’s hips bucked of their own accord and he smirked. 

_ “Yes,” _ Rey hissed, and that was the only encouragement he needed. Ben removed her leggings and underwear in one fell swoop, tossed them aside. 

His hands skimmed up her bare thighs, the heat from those calloused hands burning through her skin. He hooked her leg over his great shoulder, spreading her wide open. Rey shivered as the cold air hit her cunt, bit her lip in anticipation. 

Ben planted kisses on the inside of her thigh, going up,up. Rey hissed when he dragged the soft flesh between her teeth. He stopped just shy of her cunt and glanced up at her.

“Like this?” he asked. 

She braced herself, but she wasn’t prepared, never could have been prepared, for the feeling when he licked her. But Ben Solo was strong and he held her steady as he  _ devoured _ her, as if he were a starving man and she were his last meal. 

She clenched her teeth against the keening noise in the back of her throat, dug her heel into the muscles of his back. Her whole body tensed, coiled tighter and tighter, and when he swirled his tongue around her clit and then  _ sucked - _

She cried out; her vision went dark and tears pricked her eyes. It felt  _ good, _ so good that her legs shook, her insides felt like liquid fire, and she felt - so, so  _ light. _ Her hips bucked when he did it again; he held her still as her climax wracked through her, leaving her panting, her legs shaking. 

He pulled back slightly, fixing her with that dark, hungry gaze. His hair has fallen into his face, and his lips glistened - from her. 

Face flushed, chest heaving, Rey reached down and smoothed his hair from his face, hands shaking, unsure of what to say. It felt - it felt - 

On the fringes of her mind, she could hear Ben’s thoughts:  _ I know. _

And 

_ I should have gotten on my knees for you a long time ago. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But for now you're the Supreme Leader."
> 
> "And you're the last Jedi." 
> 
> "I don't think," Rey says, "That I'm a very good Jedi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is basically p0rn with big sloppy Reylo feelings.

Ben plants small, featherlight kisses between her thighs as he pulls away, shuts his eyes as his lips brush against the soft skin of her thigh. Some part of him still can’t believe that she’s here, that s He finally looks up at her, and his heart nearly stops. Her face is flushed red, mouth open as she gasps for breath, looking at him like she expects to be devoured at any second. Like she  _ wants _ to be devoured. 

She licks her lips and reaches out with a gentle touch and brushes his hair away from his face. And just like that, her expression changes -

And Rey looks like she wants to devour  _ him.  _

His cock strains against the confines of his pants at the thought. 

Ben rises to kiss her, climbs onto the bed. She meets him halfway and straddles his lap, kneeling with her knees on either side of his waist. Rey works her hands underneath his shirt in an attempt to coax it off.

He needs little encouragement to pull off the garment and toss it aside.. She smooths her bare hands over his chest, fingers splayed out across his collarbones. It feels as if she’s appraising him, sizing him up. It’s not that he feels self-conscious; it’s that he’s not used to the scrutiny, and he’s afraid that if she looks too long she’ll begin to notice flaws, find shatterpoints in what used to be carefully constructed armor. 

“You too,” he growls, hands already halfway up her shirt. She’s wearing no underclothes, no wrappings around her breasts, and Ben’s mind nearly blanks when his hands brush against them and not a piece of fabric. They’re soft - so incredibly soft - and her nipples are pert underneath his palms. 

Her small shiver doesn’t go unnoticed; Ben helps her remove her shirt then sits back, taking her all in. 

A blush that started on her cheeks made its way down her neck and chest, just above the swellof those perky,  _ perfect _ breasts. 

He kisses her lips, her chin, her throat.“You are,” he murmurs, “the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.” He kisses down her delicate clavicle, her sternum, the tops of her breasts, drags his tongue over the peak. Rey gasps, fists her hands into his hair in response. 

He repeats the motion, taking it into his mouth and just barely letting the tips of his teeth scrape against her nipple; she tenses, tugs even harder on his hair and makes a thin keening sound that goes straight to his cock. He gives her other breast the same attention, and when he pulls away to kiss her mouth, she looks half-wrecked, eyes wide, mouth swollen from where she’d bitten it. 

Ben feels it inside of him - that empty, swirling black pit of  _ want _ and  _ need. _ He wants her to pin him down and have her way with him; he wants to get on his knees for her and make her scream; he wants to bury his cock inside of her until she’s so thoroughly wrecked she can barely  _ talk - _ anything,  _ anything _ to prove his devotion. 

He’s afraid though, to voice those things, to show her those things - so instead he laves at her neck with lips and teeth and tongue, just rough enough to leave small marks in his wake. 

_ I would be yours, _ he thinks, just intense enough for her to hear,  _ If you would have me. _

In response, Rey cups his face in her hands and pulls him in for a kiss.. He opens for her almost instantly. She wraps her arms around his neck and pushes closer, her bare chest flush against his, and Ben is certain he can feel her heartbeat. 

He wraps his arms around her - they’re so close already, but he wants her  _ closer - _ and she shifts in his lap, pressing herself against the bulge in his pants, and, he can’t help but groan into her mouth. 

He feels her hesitate for a moment; then she takes his lower lip between her teeth and worms her hand between them to cup him through his trousers, press the flat of her palm against him. 

Clumsy hands try to undo the clasp of his belt. Ben kneels up and pushes her hands away, has the offending garment off with two quick movements. He swings his feet over the side of the bed - he has to take those  _ kriffing _ boots off, but he’s seriously considering just ripping off his pants at the seams... 

He makes quick work of kicking off his boots and yanking his pants and underwear down.

Lithe arms wrap around his shoulders and Rey presses herself against his back. She plants a small kiss to the back of his neck, smooths her hands down his chest, his stomach, down -

He hisses when her hand - cool and dry - wraps around his aching cock, his fists buried in the sheets of the bed. She gives him one stroke, then another, and Ben -

He’s not going to last, he thinks, if she keeps this up - her heavy breath on his neck, her lips suckling at his pulse point.

“Rey, I - “ and he still isn’t used to the way her name falls from his lips, beautiful and delicate and more precious than anything he’s ever said before, “Let me -” 

Barely half-formed words, but she gets the gist and removes her hand. He shifts to face her, searches her face for any hint of trepidation, of rejection. But there is none - just the same need he feels reflected back at him. 

He brushes stray hairs behind her ear. “Is this your first time?”

He knows the answer, but.

A small nod. Then: “You?”

“It may as well be.” Nearly a decade, but she doesn’t need to know that yet. “But first…”

He slips a finger between her folds - she’s slick, hot and wet, and when he slips a tentative finger inside of her, so  _ tight. _

He gives an experimental twitch, takes her small sigh as a signal to keep going. “Good?” he murmurs, and she clutches at his shoulders with a small whimper. He slips a second finger inside of her and she lets out a small  _ “Oh!”  _ when he crooks them against that small spot, deep inside of her. 

“Is -” she shudders. “Is that how it feels?” 

“A little,” he says. And then, he decides to make a promise: “But better.” 

He increases his pace and she surges forward to kiss him with teeth adn tongue in equal measures; she’s slick now, dripping between her thighs and keening into his mouth - 

Ready, he figures, as she’ll ever be.

A small noise of protest, when he pulls his fingers out of her; large eyes, transfixed, when he sucks the appendages into his mouth. He can’t help but smirk. 

Rey, it seems, does wonders for his ego. 

After a moment of deliberation, he decides to lay on his back to let her set the pace (and maybe, selfishly, because he wants to be at her mercy -) at least for now. 

She must’ve picked up on that thought - not that he was trying to hide it, in the first place - and she gapes at him. “You’ve...you’ve thought about this?” 

“Since the first time the Force connected us,” he tells her, and she surprises him with a frank question: “Which..way...do you prefer?” 

“For now,” he tells her, “Like this.” 

* * *

Rey can hardly breathe under the enormity of it all. 

And yet - and yet it feels natural, as if she were meant to do this, as if Ben Solo’s naked skin against hers was something she’d been missing her entire life. 

Ben lay back, kept a firm grip on her hips, naked and prone beneath her. She can’t help but run her hands over the expanse of his chest, over those impossibly broad shoulders. His skin is ivory-white, his hair inky black and feathered out on the pillows in a dark halo around his head. His skin is soft under her hands, his muscles firm, his hands impossibly gentle, brace on her hips.

His hand reached down between them to angle the head of his cock against her folds and - and  _ oh,  _ Rey wonders how it’s going to fit inside of her - she could just barely wrap her hand around its girth - but she was nothing if not determined, and her cunt was soaking,  _ aching _ with need, and if his cock would feel anything like this fingers had… 

She reached down too, hand brushing his as she guided him to her entrance, sitting up on her knees for a better angle. 

“Take your time,” he instructed, voice soft, hand gently stroking the back of hers. 

She sank down on top of him, slowly at first - a small tinge of pain at the stretch, but also a slice of pleasure as she took him in, deeper and deeper, all the way to the hilt and oh -  _ there _ , it hit that same spot his fingers had, moments before, but felt so much - so much - 

_ Better, _ he’d been right. 

She glanced down at him, for guidance, for instruction, and he looked up at her and licked his lips. Rey almost had to look away - this was Ben,  _ her Ben, _ naked and prone beneath her,  _ inside  _ of her, small purple marms blooming on his neck, and there were very few moments in her life that warranted being called  _ perfect _ but this - this might be one of them. 

“Good?” he asked.

“Y-yeah.” 

A sigh of relief. Hands twitching on her hips. Then: “Move, if you’re comfortable,” he said. “Or I can.” 

Her legs were shaking - from pleasure or nerves, she wasn’t sure. She gave a slight thrust of her hips and - and she didn’t hate it, the sensation, but it wasn’t…

She bit her lip and looked down at Ben, his soft lips and wide eyes, looking up at her with - with  _ adoration _ written across his face. 

She says the words before she loses the courage: “Show me.” 

A small smirk, then, “With pleasure.” 

He started slow, hands firm on her hips, moving her in time with him in steady strokes. The breath went out of her, and she couldn’t help but admire him, the way the muscles in his abdomen moved with every thrust. As she grew more used to the sensation, as it began to feel  _ pleasurable, _ Rey gave an experiment thrust of her hips and hissed - his cock hit here  _ there, _ in that place where his fingers had moments ago - 

Some primal urge came over her, uncurled from deep inside of her chest. She found Ben’s hands at her hips and laced their fingers together, tugged them up over his head and leaned forward until she was pinning him down. Seeing him there - naked and helpless beneath her - drove her to ride him harder, faster. 

A stream of feelings that Rey couldn’t quite articulate suged in her chest with a frantic intensity; Ben was  _ hers _ \- and she was his - and - 

Ben let out a litany of curses, and she nipped his neck in response, laving her tongue over the bite after. She wanted to mark him, she realized, and the thought of Ben having a visible mark on him made her bite her lip. She felt herself clench around him, certain she was going to come -

And then, in one fluid motion, he flipped their positions, had her on her back, still inside of her.

_ “Ben!” _ she made a noise of protest - she’d been so close - bu he only smirked down at her. 

“My turn,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her. He began moving again - slow and deep, as if savoring the moment, as if wanting to make this last as long as possible. Rey angled her hip and wrapped her legs around his torso, allowing him to bury himself inside of her to the hilt.

Slowly,  _ torturously slowly, _ he pulled out, entered her again. “Good?” he asked, lips brushing against her own. “Do you like the slower pace?” 

Rey nodded. She was breathless, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers buried in his hair struggling hard not to whimper with every thrust. It felt - it felt like he was adding fuel to the fire, making her burn hotter and hotter for him, bringing her so close to the precipice of pleasure and keeping here there until she went mad from it.

“Tell me,” he groaned, dropped a kiss to her neck. It seemed like he was pleading with her. His voice - his  _ voice, _ had it always been that low? That husky? 

He whispered in her ear. “Let me be good for you, Rey. Tell me how to make it good.” 

In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but think there was something deeper here, something buried deep in the back of Ben’s mind...but she instead focused on the man in front of her, at his request. There wasn’t much, she thought, that she wouldn't’ do for him - not when he was making her toes curl and her back arch, satisfying the need in her aching, soaking cunt. 

“There - there, do it again -” Rey scored her nails down his back and arched into him when he reached between them and pressed his thumb against that sensitive bundle of nerves - “Fuck, Ben,  _ fuck -” _

He drew out of her and pushed all the way in, faster, harder. 

She scored her nails down his back and he hissed through his teeth. “Do that again - harder - I -  _ please-“ _

His voice broke; Rey raked her nails down his back with a frantic intensity - he could ask anything of her, in this moment, and she would comply as long as he  _ didn’t stop moving - _ “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Ben - I - I need, “ She could hardly finish the sentence. She clenched her thighs around his midsection, crossed her ankles behind his back. 

He quickened his pace, kept a firm pressure on her clit, drover her higher, higher - 

And Rey felt as if she were falling - the breath left her body and she saw stars, cresting into her climax with a cry, hands pulling at his hair, legs wrapped around him impossibly tight. 

“Ben,” she nearly sobbed. “Ben.  _ Ben.” _

There were no words in Basic or any other language to describe how she felt, euphoric and full and so, so  _ happy,  _ and oh - oh, she hoped he knew that, how happy he made her. 

He came with a filthy sound halfway between a growl and a moan, face buried in the crook of her neck. He’d pulled out at the last minute, it seemed - something hot and wet was all over Rey’s belly. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I... “ 

Rey ran her fingers through his hair. “I know.” 

He reached over and presented Rey with his discarded undershirt to wipe away his cum. Rey made quick work of it, deciding it was best to toss the dirty shirt to the side. 

They could deal with that later.

He was breathing heavily, nearly trembling. He shifted to the side, kept his face buried on her neck and his arm draped across her side. He alternated between planting small kisses on her shoulder and murmuring sweet nothings, a litany of her name and how good she was, how he would do anything for her, how much he loved her -

Rey was playing with his hair, but stopped in her tracks at the confession. It was one thing to sense it through the bond, another thing to hear it out loud - and Rey felt something delicate and precious begin to bloom in her chest. 

She thought he couldn’t have made her any happier. And now…

Ben turned to face her, head propped on up his elbow. “Rey?”

She was blinking away tears, like some stupid lovestruck girl. And maybe - maybe that comparison was more accurate than Rey would care to admit. 

“I’m sorry -” he was tripping over words now, panic written clear across his face. “I - Rey, I didn’t mean -”

The words rip from her throat of their own accord: “Don’t you dare take it back, Ben Solo.” 

For a moment, the air between them was heavy, silent. Rey froze, certain she’d ruined the moment-but then a smile broke out on his face, big and warm and breathtaking. 

And - and  _ oh,  _ that was his smile?

“Never,” He murmured. “If you take nothing else away from this, Rey, please know that.”

* * *

Ben’s heart hammers in his chest and blood roars in his ears. She didn’t reject him. 

_ She didn’t reject him. _

Rey turns on her side to face him, and Ben instinctively curls his arm around her waist. The Force bond hums between them, and all Ben feels from it is a sense of contentment, a quiet feeling of belonging. 

More than he’s ever hoped for. More than he’s ever felt 

Rey rests her hand on his chest, right over his heart. “Ben...I love you. I do.” 

He doesn’t miss it - the emphasis on  _ Ben, _ on the man he used to be. On the man he might become again; it tempers the joy that blooms in his breast. 

“I know,” he murmurs, because that’s the sad truth of it: Rey could never love Kylo Ren, not really, the facade he’d constructed for himself, the facade he’d used to inherit an empire. He gives her a rueful smile. “For you, Rey, I can be him.” 

“You  _ are _ him. I’ve seen it.” 

She’s seen it - seen him as Kylo Ren, seen him as Ben Solo - and she’s come out on the other side loving him. Of all the people in his life, it was a beautiful,  _ feral,  _ scavenger from Jakku who believed in him the most...and he wanted nothing more than to please her. 

He thought that offering her the galaxy was the way to win her - but now. Rey didn’t need to be won: she needed to be  _ earned. _

And the way to earn her was to divest himself of Kylo Ren and become Ben Solo. 

“Some day.” 

Rey traces lines over his shoulder with delicate fingers and gives a light sigh. “But for now you’re the Supreme Leader.” 

Well, if they’re pointing out the obvious: “And you’re the last Jedi.” 

He nearly winces at the instinctual sarcasm - something he’d inherited directly from his parents, something only honed during his time with Luke, and later Snoke. 

But Rey’s lips quirk into a smile. “I don’t think I’m a very good Jedi.” Her fingers trail up his neck, his jaw, and brush his hair behind his ear. Ben nearly purrs under the touch.

“Are you saying that you’re attached to me?” 

“I’m saying - mmph!” 

Ben rolls them over so he’s on top of her, leans down to hiss her. She sighs into his mouth and parts her lips for him, and he kisses her, over and over. 

“Because,” he tells her between kisses, “I’ve found myself attached to you.” 

He pulls back, props himself up on his elbows so his full weight isn’t on top of her. “Is that so?” she asks with a beautiful laugh that nearly takes his breath away. 

“Attached enough,” he says, “To begin negotiations with what remains of the Republic.” He swallows - he doesn’t mention the Resistance, or his mother - he can’t bring himself to, not yet. 

Her breath catches. “Ben…”

There’s a feeling in the bond, of hope and joy and  _ love, _ and Ben - 

Ben smiles down at her, and says, “But not now.” 

She doesn’t press it, just tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls him down for another kiss. 

And Ben - feeling heady and amorous, and  _ damn _ that Skywalker bloodline, says: 

“Besides. I’d hope we have better things to do when you’re naked and underneath me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3 please let me know what you think!


End file.
